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by low_battery_laptop



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, M/M, No happy ending here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 18:49:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20916863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/low_battery_laptop/pseuds/low_battery_laptop
Summary: Beyond the cloak of fantasy, he knew Felix. He knew how stubborn he was, and how he would die for what he thought was right. Sylvain knew that if they ever met, one would have to kill the other.





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Sylvain knew, one day, when Edelgard clashed with what remained of the Kingdom of Faerghus and the Knights of Seiros, that Felix would be among those the Empire would slaughter. After each battle, he searched the bodies of the fallen, looking for him. He never found him. 

Some nights before they marched to battle, he wondered if Felix would listen to reason. He closed his eyes and lulled himself to sleep with fantasies of meeting his friend on the battlefield, trading blows until Felix relented. Sometimes, in that fantasy, they would look at the war around them, and run, vowing to leave a life of bloodshed behind. Other times, Felix saw that he was fighting for a lost cause, and joined Sylvain under Edelgard’s banner. 

Beyond the cloak of fantasy, he knew Felix. He knew how stubborn he was, and how he would die for what he thought was right. Sylvain knew that if they ever met, one would have to kill the other. 

* * *

The rush of rain, of the river, blended together with the cries of the victorious and the dying. Each time Sylvain marched to battle under the banner of the Empire, his heart pounded with fear. That evening, he couldn’t see far on the battlefield, but when lightning struck to the east, obliterating Empire soldiers, he knew.

Years ago, Sylvain had found a Levin sword, and given it to him as a gift. Felix had thought the blade, shape to look like a bolt of lightning, was gaudy and far too inconvenient. It even needed some kind of magical stone to hone it after it was dulled in battle. Yet, despite his complaining, he kept it. Sylvain rode toward where lightning struck. If Felix had kept the sword, maybe there was hope for the two of them. Maybe they didn’t need to kill one another. 

The air crackled with heat. There was no time for Sylvain to turn his horse before the lightning stuck the earth beside him. His horse, burned and fearful, reared up, throwing Sylvain from his saddle. He landed in the mud, and struggled to stand. Something, maybe a rib, felt bruised or broken. The pain didn’t matter. It couldn’t stop him, not until he found Felix. 

Sylvain didn’t need to go far. His dark hair, the armor he wore, his mud covered face; all were obscured by the dark and the rain. But the shine of gold in the shape of a bolt of lightning was like a beacon. Sylvain was hardly ten steps away and getting closer, yet Felix didn’t see him. He was crossing blades with an Empire soldier. 

“Hey, Felix!” Sylvain called. Thunder rumbled in the sky above, and Felix cut down the soldier before him. Blood stained the gold of his sword, but was quickly being washed away by the rain. For a moment, Sylvain wondered if he hadn’t heard him. Then Felix turned, and looked at him. Looked through him. He said nothing. “Remember when we were kids? When we made a promise about dying together?”

“I remember,” Felix said. He stepped towards Sylvain. This was the moment he had dreamed of, and the moment he feared. The way Felix gripped his sword told him that this couldn’t end the way he wanted it to. Sylvain had all but a moment to accept that if he wanted to live, Felix had to die.

“It looks like we’re about to kill each other.” He tightened his grip on his lance. 

“Sorry, Sylvain,” Felix scoffed. “You’re dying first.”

Each rushed to meet the other in the same moment. Sylvain’s lance met Felix’s sword, the two weapons locking together as the men that wielded them struggled to gain advantage over the other. They were an even match. When Sylvain swung low with his lance, Felix jumped. In turn, Felix thrusted forward, and Sylvain quickly stepped to the left. 

Lightning summoned by the sword stuck the ground once more, and had Sylvain been a step to his right, he would have been burnt to a crisp. The thunder that followed threatened to shake the ground under their feet. Something had to give, soon. Neither of them could fight forever. 

Sylvain was knocked back a few steps by a hard blow that threatened to cut him in two. In return, he gripped his lance, and rushed forward. His attack was a blind charge. He knew it would be deflected, and they would continue their dance. But Felix slipped in the mud, and faltered. Sylvain had no time to stop, no time to even realize what had happened until the tip of his lance was embedded in Felix’s chest. He pulled back, and didn’t quite believe he was watching the blood flow freely down into the mud. 

The sword at Felix’s side dropped to the ground, and he soon followed it. On his knees, Sylvain watched him bring a hand to the wound in his chest, before it dropped to his side, stained in blood. It seemed neither of them could believe what they were seeing. 

“Sylvain…?”

It was Felix’s voice that snapped him back into reality. This wasn’t a dream. 

Sylvain rushed forward and dropped to his knees in the mud to catch Felix just before he fell face first into the mud. He was still alive. For now. In a desperate attempt to do something, anything, Sylvain covered the wound with his own hand. He could feel the slow beat of his heart. 

With what strength he had left, Felix lifted his hand once more to grip Sylvain’s. It felt like he was trying to comfort him, even though all of this was his fault. Sylvain was grateful for the rain. His eyes burned. 

“I’m s--” 

Felix was quick to silence him, by pressing his lips to Sylvain’s. The world felt like it was spinning out of control. As Sylvain’s mind raced to say something, anything, Felix fell to lie in his lap. There was nothing that could be said. Not even a goodbye. So with the rain beating down on them both, Sylvain brushed the hair back from Felix’s face, wiped mud from his cheek, and stayed with him, until the very end. 

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to @SpiceHya on twitter, whom I wrote this for. Thanks for the (painful) inspiration!


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